


Comforted

by Savvylicious



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Relationship Mending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5334980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savvylicious/pseuds/Savvylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Master Baggins,” Thorin finally breathed, having been watching the way Bilbo trembled like a leaf in their now shared proximity. “I think… I think I might also need help in mending something else.”</p><p>“Oh.” Bilbo said plainly, pulling his hands away. “And what might that be?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comforted

There was a quiet sort of hum from Bilbo as he worked on his stitching. It would be a long while before the dwarves of Ered Luin would come to join them in Erebor, meaning that all his mending would have to be done by himself or by another one of their company. The others he knew, (those who were not so injured anyway) would much rather be exploring the vast kingdom they had lost. So, he was content to sit in his perch and mend his own clothes for the time being.

Oin had his hands full with Kili and Fili, who of course had insisted that they were fine, but needed watching nonetheless. So that left Bilbo in charge of a very grumpy–and very much bedridden—King under the mountain.

Said king was propped up with numerous pillows, hands busy with mending of his own. He couldn’t do much else at the moment and he was trying very hard not to tear his hair out with boredom.

Bilbo glanced over, still wary of him, and caught his smouldering stare unexpectedly. He made to turn away with a sniff, but Thorin set his work down and continued to stare at him with an air of great importance. Bilbo ignored him for a few moments more but eventually set his coat down and turned in his chair so they faced each other.

“This idleness must be difficult for you, no doubt. But you’ll be staying in that bed Master Dwarf, and I daresay even I could stop you in your sorry state.”

So perhaps they weren’t on the best of terms just yet. Thorin’s fingers had left harsh bruises around his neck and Bilbo wasn’t quite over his fright. Almost being thrown off of the ramparts and Thorin’s near-death scare had left him quite rattled.

“I’m sure you could.”

The silence that fell between them was an awkward one and Bilbo thought that he would very much like the ground to swallow him up. He was about to turn his attention back to his torn coat when he caught sight of Thorin offering him Kili’s shirt.

“I cannot seem to stitch this properly. Might I…. May I ask for your help?”

Bilbo watched him for a long while, but in the end he heaved a sigh and moved his chair closer. If his fingers lingered on Thorin’s hands for too long there was no mention of it. He had to undo a row and set the dwarf back on the right course after all, so there really wasn’t a way where he couldn’t touch the injured king.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin finally breathed, having been watching the way Bilbo trembled like a leaf in their now shared proximity. “I think… I think I might also need help in mending something else.”

“Oh.” Bilbo said plainly, pulling his hands away. “And what might that be?”

But Thorin did not have to say more. Bilbo saw it in his eyes. The sadness, the regret. The desperation, and especially the guilt. He frowned for a great long time and then sighed again, putting aside the shirt they’d been working on.

“I could, I suppose. But it’ll be a long while before that will ever be fixed. And first you stubborn oaf, you must mend yourself,” A fonder smile pulled at his lips, and though it was strained, it was genuine. “So stop glaring at the bedsheets as if they mean to do you harm.”

Thorin snorted and then winced in regret as it seemed to hurt him. He settled back into the pillows but did not take his gaze away from the hobbit. Bilbo did not have to pry to know what Thorin’s eyes asked of him. Though his back hurt from sitting up for so long and his fingers ached from hours of stitching, he would stay. He would stay despite the way his head throbbed with every heartbeat, and he would stay despite the uncomfortable emptiness of his stomach.

“Rest now, Thorin. I shan’t move.” And rest Thorin did.


End file.
